Albus Potter and the Elder Wand
by emmac.04
Summary: 19 years after the war, Albus Potter is entering his first year at Hogwarts. He is learning how to become a wizard, and making new friends along the way. The wizarding world is thrown into a panic when Al's father, the famous Harry Potter, mysteriously disappears. Al is terrified and confused. The Dark Lord couldn't be back...could he?
1. Chapter 1: Ferrets and Friendship

**Unfortunately, I do not own Harry Potter, or any of these characters except for Harvey, Chris, and Felix. Hope you enjoy! And please please please leave a review. It would make my day!**

* * *

"Anything from the trolley, dears?"

There was a mad scramble as Al and his cousins pulled money out of their pockets and grabbed treats. Al quickly slapped two sickles onto the trolley and took a chocolate frog. He began to open the box, but his brother, James, snatched it from his grip.

"Hey!" Al shouted, lunging for the box.

"Hold up," James said calmly, holding the chocolate frog out of Al's reach, "you still owe me 2 sickles from when we bet about Teddy and Victoire snogging."

"I won that bet, you idiot!" Albus dove towards his chocolate frog, but missed and crashed into the trolley. The trolley lady shrieked in surprise. Al's face turned bright red. "Sorry miss," he squeaked. Looking flustered, the witch hastily handed Rose a cauldron cake and wheeled her cart away.

As soon as she left, Fred burst into laughter, slapping Al a high five. "You should have seen the look on her face," he crowed.

Still blushing furiously, Al turned back to his brother. James had already opened up the packaging and was sliding out the card. He studied it for a couple seconds, before sighing dramatically. "Ugh, I got Dad again! You can take the frog Al, I just wanted to see if the card was worth keeping."

"Thanks for reminding me that you owe me two sickles, by the way!" Al said, through a mouthful of chocolate. He extended his hand.

"Are you kidding me? That was like, three years ago!"

"Once, Molly made me give her a galleon because of a bet we made when I was five!" Lucy added solemnly. Al smiled. Molly was extremely forgetful, except when it came to bets.

James cleared his throat loudly, obviously wanting to change the subject before he had to hand over the money. "So, do you guys know where Dominique, Vic, and Louis are?" The three siblings had all poked their heads into the compartment to wish Al and Rose luck, but hadn't stuck around.

"Dominique's a prefect, remember James?" Roxanne said, "and I think Vic's with a bunch of her friends. Probably squealing about Teddy's little farewell." They all giggled.

"And of course Louis is most likely flirting with a bunch of witches," Fred added mischievously. "It really isn't fair, having to compete with the first part-veela male in history! You lot are lucky you aren't in his year!"

Laughter echoed around the little train compartment. Al realized how lucky he was to have so many cousins at Hogwarts. They had all chosen to sit with Al and Rose rather than their own friends, to offer them moral support before the sorting. Even if he didn't make any friends, he would always have someone to talk to.

What if he didn't make any friends? A dark cloud of worry settled itself in Al's head. He was more nervous about the sorting. Every single one of his cousins had been placed in Gryffindor. Al couldn't imagine their disappointment if he were to break the tradition.

"You lot better put on your robes now, I expect we'll be arriving soon," Rose said. She had been wearing her robes ever since they had boarded the train. Al's mum and dad kept laughing about how much Rose was like Aunt Hermione. Rose looked a lot like her mum as well, with the same bushy hair, but red. Al searched his cousin's face for any sign of nervousness. She had seemed a bit worried back on Platform 9 3/4, when Uncle Ron and James had joked about them being sorted into Slytherin, but now she radiated confidence. Al tried to mimic her calm expression, but stopped when James began giving him strange looks.

Al slipped on his new robes and turned his attention to the window. Rolling green hills flew by his eyes. In the distance, he could see the very tip of one of Hogwart's turrets.

Suddenly, the Hogwarts Express jolted to a stop. Around Al, everybody was gathering their belongings and heading out of the compartment. Al took a deep breath, then stood up and followed James out the door. He was excited about school, he really was. He was just worried that he might not fit in.

"Firs' years, firs' years! Over here!"

Al looked around wildly until he found the source of the familiar voice. "Hagrid!" He cried. Hagrid visited his house frequently, and knew Al very well.

Al's cousins dispersed, Fred finding Louis and joining the fifth years, Roxy moving towards the rest of the fourth years, and Molly squealing as she hugged a blond third year friend. James gave Al one last thump on the back, said, "you better be in Gryffindor," and heading off towards the carriages.

"Ha, I told you the thestrals were invisible!" Al called triumphantly after his brother, as the carriages pulled away. Then he took Rose's hand and followed Hagrid towards the boats.

* * *

"Potter, Albus."

Trembling, Al stood up walked to the front of the Great Hall. He tried to ignore the whispers, knowing that they were just because of his dad. Rose smiled encouragingly as he took the Sorting Hat and placed it on his head.

"Ah yes, another Potter," the hat said, in a deep voice. "Let me see here, you are a very clever boy. Slytherin or Ravenclaw would suit you well, though if you are anything like your father, my guess is that you do not want Slytherin. You are also very kind and loyal, would do well in Hufflepuff. And a heart that is brave a true. You would do well in Gryffindor."

The hat takes your choice into consideration. Al remembered his dad's words.

"Gryffindor," Al muttered, "I want Gryffindor."

The hat seemed to think for a couple seconds, making Al fidget in his seat with nervousness. "Curious, are you quite positive?"

"Yes, yes," Al quickly said.

"Just like his father," the hat murmured. "Alright then, better be... GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor table exploded in cheers. Grinning from ear to ear, Al took a seat next to James, who clapped him once again on the back. "I knew you had it in you!" Al peered down the table, spotting out the rest of his cousins one by one. Each smiled at him, giving him thumbs ups.

"Weasley, Rose."

Al held his breath as his cousin stepped confidently up to the hat and placed it on her head. For over three minutes she sat, and the Al jumped when the hat finally roared, "GRIFFYNDOR!" The Gryffindor table cheered once again. Beaming, sat down next to Al.

"The hat couldn't decide between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor," she explained. "It took the longest time, and I finally just told it that I would rather be in the same house as the rest of my family. And it listened to me, can you believe that?"

"That's fantastic, Rosie!" Al had felt a little guilty that he hadn't told Rose his dad's advice, but he should have known she'd be smart enough to figure it out for herself.

"Attention, everyone!"

Al and Rose looked up. Professor McGonagall was giving her speech.

"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Just a few announcements before we can begin tour delicious feast. First, I would like to introduce Professor Kim, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Al craned his neck to see a smiling young woman with waist-length shiny black hair.

"And second, our caretaker, Argus Filch, would like to remind you-"

"I wonder how the new DADA teacher is," James muttered into Al's ear.

"She looks nice," Al responded.

"I hope she doesn't give as much homework as Professor Nicholson did last year. He assigned a twelve-inch essay on the first day!" James then turned to his friends on the other side of him and began a heated discussion on the injustice of Professor Nicholson's homework.

"-And of course, for a full list of items prohibited besides those purchased from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, ask Mr. Filch, or check the bulletin boards in the common rooms. A reminder that the Forbidden Forest is, obviously, forbidden. Now without further ado, I believe that a feast is in order!"

Professor McGonagall waved her wand with a flourish, and plates and trays bursting with food appeared along the four house tables. It was then that a great sense of relief washed over Al, when he realized that he had done it, he had made it into Gryffindor.

* * *

"So, did you see that kid my dad was talking about at Platform 9 3/4 got into Slytherin?" Rose asked Al, spooning steak and kidney pudding onto her plate.

"Scoeusalpoy?" Al mumbled through a mouthful of sausage.

"Albus Severus Potter, that is disgusting!" Rose reprimanded him. More heads turned at the name "Potter." People had been staring at Al throughout the whole feast. At first it had bothered him, but after a while, most began to pay more attention to their food than Harry Potter's son.

Ignoring the stares, Al laughed, and swallowed. "You sound just like my mum!" He said, and Rose did a spot-on impression of Ginny telling Al and James to stop fighting, sending Al into a fit of laughter.

"So anyway, Scorpius Malfoy?"

Rose nodded. "That's the one."

Al turned around and searched the table for Scorpius. He finally spotted his slicked-back blond hair. Scorpius was at the end of the Slytherin table, staring at his food and not speaking to anyone.

"He looks kind of lonely," Al said. "Makes me glad I've got you here, cos." He elbowed Rose and gave her his cheesiest smile. She hit him playfully on the shoulder.

"I guess our parents don't much like his," she said.

"He doesn't seem very likeable either to me," Al said, "see how he keeps stabbing his food violently?"

"Oh wow, call the ministry, someone's putting their food on a fork!" Rose said sarcastically.

"What? If his parents aren't nice, then he's probably the same way."

"Not necessarily," Rose said. "I mean, you hate being compared to James, right? Or when people stare at you because you're related to-" she dropped her voice down to a whisper "-Harry Potter. We shouldn't judge Scorpius because of his parents! Besides, we don't even know his parents, so we still shouldn't say anything."

Al sighed. Rose was always so logical that she made him feel bad about himself.

"Okay, but I'll judge him when I meet him," Al said.

"Sounds good to me."

Al took one last bite of treacle tart before all of the food vanished. And then he and Rose followed the rest of the Gryffindors to the top of a tower. They were shown the common room, which looked like a fantastic place to work on homework. Then Rose went with the other first year girls and Dominique. Al followed the male prefect, named Henry Thompson, along with the other boys. Much to Al's annoyance, the other boys kept shooting him quick glances and whispering.

By the time he finally made it to his dormitory, Al was exhausted. He found his trunk and his pet ferret waiting next to his bed.

"Shhh shut up Patches. Shush!"

Al spun around and saw a short boy with white-blond hair trying to calm his cat, who didn't look happy to be there.

"Patches!" The boy cried, scooping up the cat. Patches had begun shredding the drapery around the boy's bed. The cat squirmed out of its owner's grip and streaked towards the door.

Al grabbed the cat by its stomach, slamming the door shut.

"Thanks," the boy said sheepishly. "I've had Patches since I was nine, and I don't think he liked having to leave home."

"It's fine!" Al said, "I'm used to it. Casey's the same way." He pointed to his ferret. "Whenever I take her somewhere new, she goes bonkers!"

As if on cue, Casey began trashing around in her cage. Al laughed, and so did the other boy. It was then that Al realized that this was the perfect opportunity to make friends with his new roommate.

"I'm Al, what about you?"

"Er, Harvey."

The boy stuck out a small, cat hair-covered hand, then quickly brushed it off on his robes, looking embarrassed. When the two shook hands, Harvey looked up at Al. His eyes widened, and he dropped his hand.

"Blimey! Y-you're..."

"Incredibly good-looking? Yes, I know," Al teased. Harvey smiled, and confidence burst through Al. He was doing this. He was making friends.

"Yes, I'm Harry Potter's son," Al said.

Harvey's eyes were practically popping out of his head. But he swallowed, and smiled again. "Pleasure to meet you."

Suddenly, the door flew open. In stumbled two more boys, laughing and slapping each other on the back. One was tall and thin, the other about Al's height.

"Hello!" The tall boy cried. "I'm Chris, and this here's my mate Felix. So I guess we're roommates!"

Felix went from Al to Harvey, pumping their hands enthusiastically. The boy's long, shaggy brown hair swung just above his shoulders.

"Er hello," Harvey murmured, looking taken aback by the boys' enthusiasm. "I'm Harvey. Harvey Kemp."

"And I'm-"

"Albus Potter!" Both boys cried at once. Al noticed that they were both staring at him. But it felt different than most of the other students, somehow.

"You can call me Al."

The four boys grinned at each other. Al understood that Harvey, Chris, and Felix weren't staring at him with awe, curiosity, or worship. They were looking at him with kindness, seeing him as a friend instead of Harry Potter's son.

It was at that moment when Al felt he truly belonged at Hogwarts.


	2. Chapter 2: The Fifth Roommate

**I still don't own anything. Thanks for reading, and enjoy :)**

* * *

Of course, as with most friendships, things were a bit awkward at first. Al, Harvey, Chris, and Felix unpacked in absolute silence. Not the kind between enemies. Not the kind where no one wishes to speak. The kind where each person is looking for something to say, but wants to avoid the standard, "How's life."

Or in Al's case, "What's it like being the son of _the Harry Potter_."

However, with Chris and Felix in the room, the silence didn't last long. "Exploding snap?" Felix asked, holding out a deck questioningly. Chris eagerly grabbed the deck and began shuffling.

"Alright," Al said, placing his final textbook in a pile. He scooted over to join his new friends.

Harvey, meanwhile, looked somewhat bewildered. "Exploding snap?" He asked. "They don't explode... do they?"

Al laughed. "Muggleborn?"

Harvey sat down, completing the circle. Chris and Felix chatted quickly, leaving only seconds for Al and Harvey to chime in. Al soon learned that Chris was a pureblood, and Felix was a half-blood. The two were neighbors, and had been best mates since they were young. They were late to the dormitory because they had gotten lost on the way to the bathroom. They both reminded him of his Uncle George, with their boisterous personality and constant joke-cracking.

Harvey, on the other hand, was born a muggle. "When my letter came, my parents thought it was a joke!" He laughed.

"Yeah," Chris chimed in, "we were wondering how exactly it is that muggles-" he was cut off as a pair of manticore cards exploded in his face. Felix roared with laughter, and Al had to join in.

The door slammed shut with a bang, revealing another boy, his face covered in soot from the explosion. Scowling, he wiped a hand across cheek.

Chris covered his mouth. "Sorry mate! Hey you must be our roommate! I'm Chris and this is Felix and Harvey and Albus as in Albus Potter you know him like Harry Potter's son so great to meet you!" He took a deep breath. "And sorry again about the explosion we were playing exploding snap you see and I-"

"It's fine," the boy said coldly. He stormed over to the empty bed and picked up his trunk.

After an pause, Felix spoke up. "Say, you never told us your name."

"Derek."

"Alright then Derek, would you like to join our game of exploding snap?"

Derek didn't answer, but instead scowled and snapped shut the curtains around his bed.

"Um... so Derek," Felix ventured, "Go by any nicknames or anything? Or just Derek. Like Albus here goes by Al."

Derek hesitated for a second. Finally, lips barely moving, he spoke. "Rex."

"Rex, that's a cool nickname! Mind if we call you that?"

"Yes."

"You mean yes as in yes we can call you that, or yes as in yes you mind?"

Rex rolled his eyes and and slid through the curtains. Harvey, Al, Felix, and Chris gave each other meaningful looks. Finally, Chris cleared his throat.

"I think Re- er Derek's got the right idea. I for one am knackered from the sorting and all. We should probably get to bed. I'll...er...ask you that question about the muggle world later, Harvey."

The other boys chorused their agreement, and headed off to their beds, shutting off the lanterns.

"What's his deal?" Harvey muttered to Al, then turned pink as though he regretted saying it. "I mean, he just seems a bit..."

"I know what you mean," Al whispered back. "Not sure, maybe we'll talk more tomorrow."

"Yeah, he's might just need sleep."

Al nodded and lay down on his bed. "Night Harvey."

"Night Al."

* * *

Morning greeted Al all too soon, creeping through the windows. He groaned and opened his eyes, stretching.

Slipping on his robes, Al looked around the room. Chris and Felix must have already headed down, and Harvey was still sleeping, snoring softly. The curtains around Derek's bed were still drawn tight, so Al wasn't sure if he was sleeping or not.

Curiosity got the better of him, and Al pulled back the sheets around Derek's bed. He fell back with a startle when he saw the boy sitting straight up.

"Christ! What are you doing!" It was the longest string of words Al had heard Derek speak.

"S-sorry Derek." Al's voice trembled. "I just wanted to see if you were awake for breakfast."

"Well maybe you should have thought of a better way to do so than hanging around my bed like a ghost!"

Behind Al, Harvey let out a huge yawn.

"Oh good morning Harvey," Al said, quickly backing away from Derek, who had snapped his curtains back again.

"So, want to go grab some breakfast?"

"If it's anything like how the feast was last night, than absolutely!"

Harvey and Al shuffled sleepily out of their dormitory and into the common room.

"Al!"

Al looked up to see a flash of red hair darting at him.

"Rose!" Al was happy to find a familiar face.

"Hey!" She said brightly. She pulled along another smiling girl with short strawberry blonde hair. "This is my best mate Lydia! And Lydia this is my cousin Al!"

Best mate? Al couldn't believe Rose had made friends so quickly. He supposed that was just the way girls were.

Al introduced Harvey, and the four made their way down to the Great Hall, taking seats across from Felix and Chris.

Suddenly, the doors of the Great Hall burst open and hundreds of owls swooped in, carrying letters and packages. The first year students gasped in awe.

Al's face lite up when he noticed a snowy white owl among them. It was his family's old owl, Dobby. Dobby landed majestically on Al's shoulder and deposited three letters into his hand. "Thanks Dobby," he muttered. He chose first a thick cream-colored envelope.

 _Dear Albus,_

 _You did it, you made it through your first day at Hogwarts! I'm so proud of you! We miss you and Jamey already. especially Lily. I can not believe that you haven't written to us about which house you were sorted into! On my first day at Hogwarts, I went straight to my dormitory and told Grandma and Grandpa Weasley everything! Now you take out your quill right now, or the next letter you get will be a howler. Your father and I promised we would write you often, so it would be unfair for you not to write as well! I know you and James don't want to give Neville our love, but please at least wave to him. Love you!_

 _Love,_

 _Mum_

Al folded the letter up and smiled. He had been so busy playing exploding snap that he had forgotten all about writing home! Al skimmed through the next two letters, one from his father and the other from his little sister. He chuckled at the drawing Lily had done of him with the Sorting Hat on, which was yelling "Gryffindor!"

"Look at this!" Rose nudged Al's shoulder, giggling. "It's from Hugo!" She pointed at a sentence reading, _if you aren't in Gryffindor, you will be a disgrace to the whole family._

"Five galleons on who he got that from," Al said.

Rose laughed. "It's a good thing I won't be disappointing her or my dad. The Weasley family has not been disgraced."

Al suddenly yelped as he felt a jolt of cold rush down his spine. His hands flew to his neck, and he felt a sticky liquid. Juice. He spun around in his chair, where a figure with dark hair was quickly walking away.

"Hey!" Al shouted, standing up. The Great Hall fell silent, and the figure turned to face Al. It was Derek, holding an empty cup.

"I... tripped. Sorry." With that, Derek slammed his cup back on the table and hurried out of the room.

Al slowly took his seat again, and noticed that Harvey was also dripping with juice. Rose had a shocked expression on her face, and further down the table, James was looking murderous.

"Who is that kid?" He growled.

"One of my roommates," Al supplied.

James stabbed his fork into a muffin. "Only I can dump juice on you." Al forced back a grin. Maybe he should have Derek dump juice on him more often, if James was going to act like this.

Picking up a napkin, Al wiped most of the juice away, and handed another one to Harvey, who took it gratefully.

"I don't think he tripped," Harvey decided.

"I mean...," Al thought for a second. "maybe he's having an off morning?" He didn't want to believe that he could have possibly made an enemy at Hogwarts already.

Harvey shrugged, and the two returned to eating. After a while, he cleared his throat. "So, what's our first class?"

"Charms!" Rose called from across the table.

"Memorized the whole schedule already, have you?" Al teased.

Rose turned pink. "Oh shut up."

* * *

"Wingardium leviosa. WinGARdium leviOHsa. WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!"

Al swish and flicked his wand madly at the feather. Nothing was happening.

"Well done, Miss Weasley!" Professor Flitwick clapped his hands excitedly at Rose's feather, which was spiraling gently to the ceiling. "Just like your mother," he added in a lower tone when he reached Rose's desk. Rose beamed.

On the other side of Al, a second voice called out excitedly. "I did it! Al, look I did it!" Harvey's feather had joined Rose's. A look of astonishment was on Harvey's face, and he kept shooting glances at his wand, amazed that he was actually doing this.

"Nice job Rose, Harvey." Al said half-heartedly. He resumed jabbing his wand at his own feather.

"Thanks!" Rose said brightly. "You know, my dad was telling me this story about when he and my mum were learning this spell."

As Rose babbled on about her story, Al's gaze drifted over her shoulder, where Derek was also failing at levitating his feather. Derek stared at Harvey and Rose, and frowned. "Luck," he spat.

Luck? Al knew for a fact that Rose had been studying for months before Hogwarts. That was definitely not luck. Yes, Harvey hadn't had any prior knowledge of magic, being muggle-born. But even the luckiest person in the world couldn't simply pick up a wand and cast a spell. Harvey had a talent!

Al wasn't sure if he should say something. _Probably not_ , he decided. Derek didn't directly insult Rose or Harvey, he was just frustrated.

Apparently Lydia felt otherwise.

"Luck?" The girl shouted, throwing her wand to the table with a clatter. "You think that was all luck? How about this? Do it again, Rose." She stared defiantly at Derek.

 _Really_ , Al thought, _how did Rose and Lydia bond so quickly? They acted as if they had known each other their whole lives!_

Blushing, Rose let her own feather drop and pointed her wand at Lydia's. It fluttered up even quicker than the first time.

"Fair enough," Derek sneered, "what about him? Muggle-born, aren't you? Heard you talking last night."

Harvey's face turned bright red. "Uh... I..."

"What? Can't do it a second time?"

Harvey flinched at the words. Taking a deep breath, he pointed his wand at Al's. "W-w-wingardium levi...leviosa." The feather gave a feeble lurch off the table, but fell back down after a couple inches. In Al's opinion, this was still impressive. It was much more than he had managed.

"What a pity," Derek said venemously. "I suppose it was just beginner's luck, especially for a mudblood like you."

There was a collective gasp. Al couldn't believe his ears. Suddenly it was as if his body was taken over by a stronger force, and Al marched over to Derek. "I'd like to see you try to do it even once, Rex."

Derek grabbed Al by the shoulders and tried to shove him to the ground, but years of living with James had taught Al how to avoid it. He gripped Derek's arms and the two began pushing and wrestling with each other.

Professor Flitwick cried out and forced himself in between Derek and Al. "Boys!" He squeaked, "What on earth are you doing? Mr. Goyle, watch your mouth! 15 points from Gryffindor and detention tonight for the both of you!"

There were several outraged whispers among the other Gryffindors, but none spoke up. The force possessing Al backed away, and Al looked the floor, ashamed. What had he done?

But when he looked around and saw the grinning faces of Rose, Lydia, and Harvey, he was proud more than anything.

"Yes sir," he said to Professor Flitwick.

"My room at seven, both of you. Class dismissed. Homework is to practise the levitating charm if you have not yet mastered it."

Al gathered his books and quill. As they were walking out, he turned and murmured to Harvey, "There's no denying it now. I don't think Derek likes us."

Harvey snorted. "You think?" Then he took a more serious tone. "Hey, thanks for standing up for me back there."

"Of course!" Al replied.

"And um," Harvey looked embarrassed. "What exactly is a mudblood?"

"It's an extremely rude term for a muggle-born," Rose cut in, joining the two with Lydia. "Most people don't use it anymore, now that Voldemort's gone and pure-blood supremism has mostly faded. But I guess your buddy Derek is special."

"Hey, nice one Al!" Lydia added, slapping him on the back. Al flushed He supposed maybe Rose and Lydia had just hit it off so quickly because they were both so bold.

"You too," he said.

"So that bloke Derek. What an idiot!" She fumed.

"I know, he only just met us all, and he's already making fun of us," Harvey complained.

"We already made an enemy," Al said mournfully. "I was hoping we'd all just sort of get along, especially since he's Harvey's and my roommate.

"I'm sorry," Rose said sympathetically. "Hey, Flitwick said his last name was Gargle or Goyle or something like that, right?"

"I think so," Lydia said.

"Sounds familiar..." Rose said, retreating back into a world of deep thought.

"Who cares what his last name is?" Lydia said, "he's a git either way!"

The four continued to discuss Derek as they walked to their next class. Al was still shaking from his sort-of fight, but he was also weirdly grateful to Derek. A common enemy was bringing him and his friends closer together.

He just hoped Derek wouldn't be like this all the time. Of all the roommates to get, the fifth just had to be the meanest of the year.

* * *

 **So... thanks again for reading this chapter! Hated it? Loved it? Leave me a review about it! Again, thank you thank you thank you thank you!**

 **~Emma**


	3. Chapter 3: The Prophecy

The next few weeks seemed to fly by. Al learned which steps to skip on the staircases, and which paintings were actually doorways. While he wasn't as obsessed with his studies as Rose, he still enjoyed his classes.

He also grew closer with Harvey, and the two spent most of their time with Rose and Lydia.

It turned out Harvey was a brilliant student. Despite his lack of experience, he was always the second to complete a new lesson (Rose being the first). The only subject he didn't excel in was potions.

Meanwhile, potions was Al's best subject. He was about average in his other classes, but potions just felt natural to him. "The two of us make one perfect student," Al would joke to Harvey, "Maybe even better than Rose!"

On the downside, any hopes Al had clung to that Derek would get nicer had been quickly squashed. If anything, Derek was even meaner.

"I just don't understand," Rose grumbled as they made their way to Herbology, "he has no reason to be angry at us! I wrote to Dad, and-"

"You wrote to Uncle Ron?" Al exclaimed, "Great, now him and your mum and my parents are going to storm into the school and embarrass us all!"

"Oh calm down, I only asked where the name was from. Dad reckons that Derek must be the son of Gregory Goyle!"

She stopped walking and stared at them expectantly. Her friends stared blankly back.

"Don't tell me you forgot who Gregory Goyle is, Al."

Al thought about it. The name did sound familiar.

"Ohhh as in Crabbe and Goyle?"

"Yes! But our parents saved his life, so I don't see how that would make him angry."

"You're right. There must be some other reason."

* * *

"Your homework is six inches on modern-day vampires," Professer Kim said. She flicked her wand at the door, opening it, her long braid swinging across her back. "Class is dismissed."

Sighing happily, Al gathered his things and followed Harvey out the door, discussing how easy the essay would be.

He slammed into a mass of students, and dropped his books, startled. A huge cluster of third years was clogging the hall, and all of them were whispering with confused looks on their faces.

Perplexed, Al wove his way through the crowd and stopped when he reached his cousin Molly.

"Hey Molls," he said, "What's going on?"

"We were in divination," she replied, wide-eyed, "And all of a sudden Professor Trelawny's eyes rolled back into her head."

"Is she the old one with the glasses?"

"That's the one. Anyways, she started mumbling all this nonsense about 'the Chosen One' and 'the Dark Lord,' and-"

"What?" Al spluttered, "She was making a prophecy?"

"We're not sure," Molly said, frowning. "But I mean, she was the one who made the prophecy about your dad and Voldemort, and that came true. Maybe this one will also."

"But how can it be about Voldemort if he's dead?"

"I don't know! I don't even remember what she said, really. It was quite scary, we were all a bit freaked out to be honest."

The crisp voice of Professor Kim rang out. "What is going on here?"

Immediately, the hall filled with voices as everyone tried to explain at once. Professor Kim waved her hand, silencing them.

"Continue to your next classes," she said. She held a few students back to explain, and the rest moved on begrudgingly.

Al couldn't help feeling a pang of worry. Voldemort was dead, but the prophecy still concerned him. What did that mean?

* * *

After classes were over, Al headed down to Hagrid's hut with Harvey, Rose, and Lydia. The four usually went every couple of days.

"Jus' don' understand it," Hagrid said gruffly. "Bin nineteen years since Al's dad defea'ed You-Know-Who. If 'e was goin' ter come back, e' would've alrea'y. Then Sybil comes spoutin' this prophecy. Don' understand it."

"Neither do we, Hagrid," Rose soothed. He had been repeating himself for nearly fifteen minutes now, and Al was starting to lose his patience.

"Hagrid, you're positive you can't tell us anything more about the prophecy?" Al asked for the hundredth time.

"I'm not allowed ter tell yeh," he replied. "Yeh suppose they're keepin' it locked in McGonagall's office fer nothin'? It's a secret! I jus' don' understand why..."

Al shared a look with Rose, and the two stood up, their friends following. "Well, er, thanks for the tea and the biscuits, Hagrid," Al said, "but we really have to go. It's getting dark out."

Hagrid peered out the window."Yes, I 'spect yeh better be off now. Make surn' e ter come visit again."

The four promised to visit again, and headed towards the door.

"And Albus," Hagrid called, "don' go gettin' yehrself inter any trouble. Whatever Sybil said's nothin' yeh should worry abou'."

And with that, Hagrid shut the door, mumbling again about how he just didn't understand it.

* * *

All ten Weasley/Potter children waited in the Gryffindor common room by the fireplace that night, until everyone else had gone off to bed.

First, Molly retold her story of divination class. "It was complete chaos," she said, "everyone was screaming and running around, so I doubt a single person even heard the whole prophecy. But some of us remembered bits and pieces, so they called us in one by one. All I remember is the Dark Lord and the Chosen One's... something. I couldn't really hear what she said after that. I think it started with a C? Or maybe an S..."

"So then we just ask around, and eventually the whole thing'll get out," James said.

"No, I think the teachers put some charm on everyone who gave them information, so that they can't tell anyone else. My friend Olivia remembered a phrase, but when I asked her about it, she said she wasn't able to tell."

"Why do they care so much about keeping it a secret?" Fred demanded. "If it's really that bad then don't we all have a right to know?"

"Well maybe it just wasn't meant for us," Victoire countered. "The whole world hasn't heard the one about Uncle Harry and You-Know-Who."

"Come on, Vic!" James snapped, "This is about Al's and my dad! Don't we have the right to know?"

"I'm sure if we were ready to hear it, the teachers would let us," Lucy said timidly, "maybe we should just wait for a bit?" I mean, are we sure it would be worth it? It's just a prophecy that probably means nothing, and we don't even know where it is!"

"I have to hear it," Al said. "It's about my dad. What if we need to warn him of something? And besides, we do know where it is. Hagrid let it slip that it's in McGonagall's office."

James started laughing. "Piece of cake!" He said, "I'm in there all the time!"

"Me too," Fred added. "Next time one of us ends up in there, we can do a little sneaking around and bam, snatch it!"

"You really think it will be that easy," Rose said, scoffing. "There'll be all sorts of enchantments protecting it!"

"You're right," James replied, "Which is exactly why you're coming along too."

"Are you mad? I don't want to help pull one of yours or Fred's ridiculous pranks!"

James smiled slyly. "You don't have to."

"Well then how else do you suppose I'll end up in-"

James shushed her. "Remember my dad's invisibility cloak? The one he keeps in the left drawer of his desk with seven different locks on it?"

"Yeah," Al said.

Wordlessly, James drew the cloak from his back pocket, and everyone gasped.

"I took it the last day before school, and left a note saying that it was me . And seeing as I haven't received a howler yet, I guess he's okay with it. I mean, he should be considering all the trouble he, Uncle Ron, and Aunt Hermione got into!"

"James Sirius Potter!" Victoire began scolding her cousin.

"Put a lid on it, Vic!" Dominique said, grabbing her sister's arm. "Let's hear them out."

"Right," James said once everyone had quieted down. "I'm thinking I pull this huge prank, and when Minnie calls me into her office, Rose and Al follow under the cloak. It would probably be best to have someone older come, but Rose and Al would fit better, and would get off easier if we were caught, since they're the youngest. I already know that Al won't take no for an answer, so he's got to come, and Rose is brilliant, so she can help with the enchantments and whatnot."

James paused and looked around the room. "Good? Okay, so then Fred causes this huge distraction. Minnie rushes out to see what's going on, and keeps her away for as long as possible, giving us time to find the prophecy."

There was silence while everyone processed what James had just said. Finally, Rose spoke "I'll go," she said, "Just in case we need to warn our parents. But there's just one problem. If the prophecy wasn't made for us, then we won't be able to hear it."

Molly gasped. "It is meant for you!"

James frowned. "Sorry?"

"The word was 'son'! The prophecy was about the Chosen One's son!"

* * *

 **Oooh cliffhanger! Sorry this is so short, and the update is so late. Thank you always for reading this!**


	4. Chapter 4: A Howler

**Hello lovely readers! Thank you for being so patient with me. I have decided I will try to update this story once a week, although it may sometimes take a bit longer as I'm also working on another story.**

 **I don't own any of the Weasley children or this incredible world, they all belong to JKR!**

* * *

Scrambling to finish before time ran out, Al dropped the last porcupine quill into his cauldron and waved his wand.

"Excellent job, Mr. Potter!" Professor Stocks's deep voice boomed. "I daresay your cure for boils is one of the best I've ever seen!"

Al beamed, and his Harvey loyally thumped him on the back. Al shot a glance at Harvey's potion, which had turned a putrid green instead of the intended deep blue.

Professor Stocks rattled off the homework and the class field out of the dungeons.

"Best he's ever seen?"

Al spun around and came face to face with the last person he wanted to see.

"Please." Derek sneered. "He just wants to get on your father's good side, doesn't he."

"Oh lay off him for one second, would you?" Rose complained, "I'd like to see you come close to brewing a potion half as good as Al's!"

Al smiled gratefully at his cousin. The Derek situation hadn't gotten any better. Just yesterday, Derek had requested that the house elves build a barrier separating his side of the dorm room from the others', and the result had been a curtain of old sheets. Felix had tried to peek through the sheets, but had jumped back when a large rat leaped out at him. "I swear, the thing's got teeth the size of my fingers," he had exclaimed, wide-eyed. Harvey, Al, and Chris had rolled on the floor laughing, and quickly sobered up when Derek returned from the bathroom.

"What do you even have against him?" Lydia said boldly, "it's not his fault your fathers didn't get along! Besides, Al said his dad saved yours, so if you're still being taught to hate the entire Potter family, then there's something wrong with your father."

All of a sudden, Lydia was on the ground and Derek was hitting her.

"Don't you ever insult my father again," he growled, each word punctuated with a punch. Lydia flailed her arms at him, yelling at him to get off, but he had her pinned down.

"Protego!"

Derek was thrust back from Lydia, and she slowly sat up, coughing. Professor McGonagall helped her up.

"Mr. Goyle, Miss Harris, what on earth is going on?"

Wiping blood from her mouth, Lydia stood up defiantly. "He just started beating me up, Ma'am."

"Whatever for?"

Neither Lydia nor Derek spoke.

"Very well then. Mr. Goyle, I shall see you in my office immediately. Miss Harris, I suggest you visit Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing."

McGonagall led Derek away, and the rest of the class began to disperse. Al, Harvey, and Rose walked Lydia to the hospital wing.

"What was that all about?" Rose inquired.

"I dunno, guess he's just a bit touchy about his father," Al said.

"That's an understatement," Harvey agreed.

Rose frowned. "Do you think I should write my dad about-"

"No!" The others chorused.

"What do you suppose you'll write?" Al said, "Dear Dad, I was just wondering how things are going in the Goyle family. No reason! I'm just curious. Knowing Uncle Ron, he'll send a whole team of aurors over to investigate!"

"Well when you put it that way...," Rose grumbled.

"It's probably nothing," Harvey reasoned, "Maybe he just doesn't like people talking about his father, and that's it."

Lydia, who had remained silent so far, was still fuming. "The idiot! What is wrong with him? How did he end up in Gryffindor?"

She continued rambling about Derek all the way until they reached the hospital wing, where Madame Pomfrey shooed Al, Rose, and Harvey away to their next class.

* * *

Lydia was discharged from the hospital wing after about fifteen minutes, and returned to herbology without a scratch on her face. She appeared to have calmed down immensely, and by dinnertime, she was complaining about the marks she had gotten on her transfiguration essay. "Alright, fine, it wasn't fifteen inches, but I measured it, and it was fourteen and a half! In fact, I think it was even fourteen and three quarters! Besides, it's not my fault I ran out of ink, what did she expect me to write the last sentence with?" She plopped her usual seat at the Gryffindor table exasperatedly, and Rose, Harvey, and Al, nodding sympathetically, followed suite.

Al was surprised when his brother sat down next to him, and Fred took the seat across. The two normally sat with friends from their own year. Al opened his mouth to speak, but James cut him off.

"Right. So we heard about what happened today," he said briskly. "And I have come up with the perfect prank for our little friend Derek here." He cracked his knuckles menacingly, and Al snorted.

"Yeah yeah yeah, cut the theatrics. Just tell us what you're thinking of," said Rose impatiently, taking the words right out of Al's mouth.

James looked around dramatically to make sure nobody was watching, and Al threw a pea at him. "Get on with it!"

"It's the perfect plan," he began. "I've already written to Lily, and she's going to steal a Howler from Mum's cabinet and send it to us."

"Why on earth would you want her to send you a Howler?" Exclaimed Lydia. "Are you mad?"

"What's a Howler?" Asked Harvey, mystified.

Al shuddered. "It's used to send a recorded message. Parents usually use it when they're upset with their kids. And after it's done chewing you out loud enough for everyone to hear, it explodes."

"Oh," said Harvey. "Well that doesn't sound very good, does it?"

"Hold on," said Fred, "you haven't heard the rest. So Lily's going to send the Howler, but not set it up. She'll just seal it in an envelope so we can do that part."

"Wow," said Harvey in awe, "your little sister would really do that?"

Al and James nodded seriously.

"One time," said Al, "she managed to break into James's pants drawer-"

"Shut up!"

"-and take all of them-"

" _Shut up!_ "

"-and wouldn't tell him where she hid them, so-"

" _ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER SHUT UP!_ "

"-he had to go without them for a week!" Al finished with a smirk on his face, and James, his face a bright shade of red, glared daggers at him and looked ready to murder someone. Lydia and Harvey looked a little unsure of whether to laugh or not, but Rose was doubled over, and almost choked on her carrots.

"Well," growled James, "I've taught her well."

"I don't know," Al said, "I'd say _she's_ taught _you_ -"

"Alright, alright!" said Fred, "How about we finish going over the prank, and then you two can tear each other apart. Sound good?"

James lowered the bowl of peas he had lifted dangerously close to Al's head and grumbled something about this not being over.

"Excellent," Fred continued. "So little Lily will send us the Howler, and we are absolutely confident in her abilities. Then either James or I will chew on one of these." He held out a package of bubblegum. "They're from my dad's shop. They make your voice sound like an adult's."

"Then," James continued, "we will record our own Howler, and we are going to capitalize on Goyle's attachment to his father. It'll be something like, 'Oh hello Derek, I just miss you so much, you're my favorite son, I'm keeping all of your stuffed animals safe, hugs and kisses, Daddy.' I mean, I know Howlers are only used when you're really angry about something, but that will make it even worse for Goyle. He'll think he's in trouble, only to be embarrassed."

Lydia cackled evilly. "It's perfect," she cried, "it's so embarrassing!"

Rose agreed. "It's not like it's a harmful prank either," she said admiringly, "it'll just embarrass him, and he'll get over it eventually. It's genius, really."

"Thanks cos," said James, "means a lot coming from you!"

Al frowned. "But if it's anonymous then how is it going to get us into McGonagall's office?" Al and Rose had already explained their plan to Harvey and Lydia, both of whom nodded.

James and Fred shared a look. "The Howler will provide a distraction for us to pull the real prank," said Fred. "Everyone will know that one's us."

"Do I even want to know what you're planning?" Said Rose wearily.

"You'll just have to wait and see," said James, smiling.

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, a flock of owls swooped in, dropping parcels and scrolls in front of various students. Rose was clutching Al's wrist so tightly her knuckles were turning white, and Al had to keep reminding her not to act suspicious. The Howler had arrived to James's room the past evening, and he had wasted no time setting it up.

Almost as if it were in slow motion, a tawny Hogwarts owl swooped down from the rafters carrying a bright red envelope. Rose let out a little squeal and covered her mouth. The owl landed, and Derek, looking confused, picked it up. The Great Hall slowly fell silent. The Howler was beginning to smoke around the edges.

Finally Derek slid the flap open, rolling his eyes. And a voice that Al could just barely recognize as an deeper version of his brother's boomed out. " _DEREK! GOYLE! HELLO SON, THIS IS YOUR FATHER!_ "

Students began snickering and whispering, all of their eyes trained on the Howler.

" _I WAS GOING TO WRITE YOU A LETTER BUT I DECIDED THIS WOULD BE MORE PERSONAL_."

Al studied Derek's reaction. He had an unreadble expression on his face.

From under the table, James nudged Al and passed him a bundle. "There's the distraction," he breathed into Al's ear. Al nodded at his brother. He noticed that Fred, sitting at the other end of the table,was slowly muttering an incantation, a look of concentration on his face. Al tapped Rose and the two quickly exited the room, slipping on the cloak. The Howler was now ranting about Derek's stuffed animal collection.

"Ooh, I do feel badly now," Rose said once they were out of earshot.

"Think of what he's said to you!" Said Al. "He deserves it!"

"You're right," said Rose, miserably.

In truth, Al agreed with her. The prank did seem a bit harsh. He deserves it, he kept telling himself. He deserves it.

"So now we just wait for the signal from James and Fred," Al said, "and follow them into McGonagall's office. Easy."

And then there was a loud explosion and the Great Hall erupted in shouts, screams, and laughter. And above all, the voice of Professor McGonagall. "JAMES POTTER AND FRED WEASLEY! MY OFFICE IMMEDIATELY!"

"Come on," Al whispered, and he and Rose ran as quickly as they could without the cloak falling off. Suddenly, they slammed into the body of Derek Goyle, and the cloak slid off. Horrified, Al and Rose looked at each other, and looked at Goyle. His eyes brimming with tears, he glared at the two and continued sprinting down the hall.

A horrible feeling surged through Al's chest. Goyle was crying. And it was all their fault. Al looked at James and Fred, who were being led by Professor McGonagall in one direction. He looked at the hallway behind him, where Derek had disappeared.

Without speaking, without even looking at each other, Al and Rose turned around and followed Derek, dragging the cloak behind them. The prophecy would have to wait.


	5. Chapter 5: The Son of the Chosen One

**Heyyyyyyyyy! Okay, I have made a goal for myself to update every weekend. Depending on my homework load, it may be slightly more or less often. We'll see! As always, I do not own HP, our queen JKR does. Thanks for sticking around, and enjoy!**

* * *

Rose and Al raced through the torch-lit hallway. They turned the corner just in time to see the door slam shut. Quickly, Al pulled it open again and held it for his cousin.

"That's the boys' lavatory!" She exclaimed.

Al raised an eyebrow, and she cautiously stepped into the room. Al followed.

Stifled sobs echoed off the tile walls.

The guilt that had been building up in Al's chest swelled, and he began to feel light-headed. "Derek?" He croaked.

When no one responded, Al inched forward and found his roommate, huddled in the corner. His face was buried in his hands, his knees drawn up to his chest.

Al swallowed, a lump rising in his throat. This was all his fault. Why had he agreed to this?

"Derek," he repeated. "I'm sorry."

Al and Rose sat on either side of Derek, and waited until he calmed down.

"It was a stupid prank," whispered Rose, her eyes glistening, "stupid. And mean. I wish we had never done it. I'm so sorry we embarrassed you, Derek, if there's any way we can make it up to you-"

"Embarrassed?" Derek laughed harshly. "You think I'm... crying because I'm embarrassed?"

Rose frowned, looking confused. "Um..."

"Because I'm not."

The stall door in front of the three swung open with a squeak, and there, red-faced, stood Scorpius Malfoy.

Al still didn't know what to make of the boy. He was rather quiet in the classes they shared, and was an average student. Al was a bit annoyed that Derek had been interrupted. He was just about to explain himself! But at least Malfoy had the decency not to eavesdrop.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," he muttered. Even the tips of his ears were red. "I, um, was just, um-" He began hurrying out the door.

"It's alright," said Derek, his voice oddly emotionless. "You can stay."

Once Malfoy was seated, Derek sighed. "I wasn't embarrassed," he repeated. "I was..." His voice trailed off. "My father- he couldn't have sent that Howler.

"Well of course he wouldn't have," said Rose. "Like I said, it was just a stupid prank. An extremely stupid prank."

"No," said Derek. "Not wouldn't have. Couldn't have."

Something clicked in Al's mind, something fell into place. Derek's father couldn't have sent the Howler. He couldn't because...

"My father is dead," Derek said finally. He took a shaky breath, and pointed to Al. "And it's because of your father."

Rose opened her mouth to object, and then closed it again. Al felt light-headed again. His father was responsible for Derek's father's death. How could this be?

"After the war," Derek continued, " My father met my mother. They fell in love, and I was born. And we were happy. The world was at peace, you know? And my father- he completely changed from his school days. He accepted pure-bloods, half-bloods, muggleborns, and muggles, and treated them all alike. He taught me to do the same. And he said it was all because of one amazing boy that he used to go to school with: Harry Potter. He said your dad saved him even though he didn't deserve it. Your dad helped him realize what it really meant to be a good person. He changed his ways."

Al felt a surge of pride. To him, Harry Potter was just his dad. The guy who taught him how to fly, the guy who make lame jokes and tucked him in at night. But to others, he was so much more.

"Everything changed when my grandfather was let out of Azkaban, where he was put for being a Death Eater. He came to live with us, and immediately was upset with the way my father treated blood status. They would argue about it back and forth, sometimes not speaking to each other for weeks."

Rose gasped. "That's horrible," she said tearfully. Al agreed. He couldn't imagine his dad being in a row with Granddad Weasley, the two adored each other.

"And then one morning, my grandfather woke me up at the crack of dawn, while my parents were still sleeping. He said we were going to go buy a father's day present for my dad. I thought it was a bit strange, because they were in the biggest argument I can remember. Something about Voldemort, I think. But I went along with him, and we spent some time buying things at Knockturn Alley. By the time we came back, the house was on fire."

Derek studied the ground, and tears began once again to leak out of his eyes. Everything he had kept hidden, all of the times he had spent brooding in his corner of the room. It all came spilling out."He said it was a freak accident, and he did his best to keep it out of the papers. He threatened anyone who was going to write anything about it. But I know what really happened."

Al couldn't believe his ears. Had Derek's grandfather actually killed his own son?

After a pause, Derek once again pointed at Al, his hand trembling. "It's all your father's fault," he said. "My father chose Harry Potter over me. If only he had backed down, then maybe I wouldn't... maybe he would still be alive. He should have done it, for my mother and me. I was only seven, you know. And now I live with the man who killed my father, and there's nothing I can do about it."

It all made sense. The reason why Derek was such a bully. Al couldn't believe he hadn't known about Goyle's father. All of a sudden, the guilt came rushing back, hitting Al like a punch in the stomach. They had sent him a howler from his dead father.

"Oh, Derek!" Rose cried, tears now running down her face. "I'm so sorry." She looked about to hug him, but then backed away awkwardly. "We just thought, because of how you had been to us, which of course makes perfect sense now, that it would be a little joke."

Al had absolutely no idea what to do. What do you say to a boy who's parents are dead, and who blames your father?

Scorpius, who had remained silent, met Derek's eyes. "Look," he said. "I'm sorry about your dad," he said. "In a way, I understand. Both my grandfather and my father were deatheaters before the war, and afterwards, they argued a lot. I don't think they'll ever be the perfect image of a loving father and son.

"But the point is, my dad told me some stories of the war. And you have to realize, Al's dad was good. You said the world was at peace. And was all because of him. Both of our fathers could have easily backed down. But they didn't. Yes, they made bad choices when they were in school. But they changed, and that's what made them good too.

Derek's eyes once again fell to the floor. "It was Harry Potter's fault," he said quietly, but Al could tell he didn't mean it.

"Derek, your father would have stayed alive for you if he knew what your grandfather was going to do. He didn't have a choice. You still do, you can be good like your father." Scorpius his face once again bright red, smiled weakly. And Al knew at once that Scorpius too was good.

Derek looked up from the floor. He nodded. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Me too," said Al.

"You know," said Derek, "it wasn't a bad prank. If it wasn't delivered to me, it would have been pretty funny, actually."

"What prank?" Asked Scorpius. "I was in the loo."

Derek snorted, and Rose began to giggle nervously. Al felt the corners of his mouth tugging up, and suddenly all four of them were rolling on the ground with laughter.

And just like that, they were friends.

Derek began to fill the other three in on James and Fred's big prank, which Rose and Al had missed while putting on the cloak. Apparently, all the food on the Slytherin table had exploded, and when the Slytherins tried to get up, they discovered they had been glued to the benches.

"I sure am glad I was in the loo," said Scorpius.

"McGonagall knew it was James and Fred because they both stood up on the tables and began laughing," said Derek. "It was weird, almost as if they wanted to get caught."

Al gasped. "Rose! We forgot! Derek, they were trying to get caught. The point was for them to go into McGonagall's office. We would follow under my dad's invisibility cloak -I'll explain that later- and we were going to try and find the prophecy. But by now, they're already in there, so there's nothing we can do about it."

"I suppose they'll just have to find it on their own," Rose said.

Derek grinned. "No they won't! I went in there with McGonagall after I, er, punched Lydia." He blushed. "Sorry about that, by the way. But anyways, I know the password!"

Al was really beginning to like this new Derek.

* * *

"Sugar quills," Al said confidently. He smiled, remembering his dad's stories about Dumbledore's candy passwords. He supposed McGonagall had kept the tradition that his namesake had started.

The door swung open, revealing a spiral staircase. Rose and Al once again slipped the cloak over their heads and dashed up the stairs. Rose pressed a finger to her lips, and the two silently stepped into McGonagall's office.

"-unbelievable, really!" She was shouting. "What sort of example do you think you are setting for the first years?"

This was the part of the plan that was less predictable. Rose and Al were supposed to somehow distract McGonagall and get her to leave her office so that they could search for the prophecy. They had been planning to set off a few Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products in a trail leading outside of the office, after which they would proceed to lock her out. She would definitely know what was going on. But it wouldn't matter so long as they got to hear the prophecy.

They were just about to set off the first detonator when Professor Longbottom burst past them. Al clamped a hand to Rose's mouth, and the two pressed against the wall, breathing heavily. Neville strode up to McGonagall and muttered something in her ear. McGonagall sighed.

"Potter. Weasley," she commanded, "don't touch a thing. I will be returning shortly." And with that, she and Neville marched out of the room, muttering still.

Al couldn't believe their luck! It was probably James, he reasoned. James must have somehow convinced Professor Longbottom to lead McGonagall away. He threw the cloak off, and James yelped in surprise. "Oh good," he said smoothly, trying to recover from embarrassment, "I thought for a minute you two bailed out on our plan."

Al smirked at Rose. "Of course not! We want to hear the prophecy as badly as you do!"

James held up his hands. "Okay, okay! How in the world did you get Longbottom to do that?"

Al was confused. "We didn't do it! I thought you did."

"Who cares why he's here," said Fred, "let's just look for the prophecy already, shall we?"

"Typical." The voice came from a portrait on the wall. The man had greasy black hair and a smooth voice. "I see Potter's children are getting into trouble as well."

Curious, Al peered more closely at the portrait. Severus Snape, 1997-1998. Al's heart leapt up to his throat. It was his namesake!

"Hey look Al, it's the real Albus and Severus!" Rose pointed at the two portraits, hanging next to each other. She waved, and pointed at Al. "This here," she announced, "is Albus Severus Potter."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, and he began to tear up. "Harry named his son after me," he said. He smiled at Al. "A pleasure, Mr. Potter."

Al nodded back, dazed.

"Potter named his boy after me." Snape was frowning, and Al fidgeted nervously. He didn't seem too happy about it.

"Yes sir," said Al politely.

Snape studied Al for a couple seconds. "You look just like him," he said quietly. "You have your grandmother's- your father's eyes."

"Yes sir," repeated Al, relieved.

"Oi, Albus!" James cried, "Are you going to keep chatting it up with some paintings or are you going to help us find the prophecy before Minnie gets back?"

Al jumped. "Right. Sorry. Er, Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape, you wouldn't have any idea where Professor McGonagall hid the prophecy, would you?"

Dumbledore's eyes still sparkled with tears, but he shook his head. "I wish I could help you," he said. "Alas, it is not my place. I am most regrettably under the position of guarding the prophecy, and if you wish to take it, you will have to get through me. However, should you find it, I will be unable to stop you, given my current state."

Al wondered if there was anything Dumbledore could do from within the painting. Probably not. Al thanked Dumbledore anyway and opened the nearest drawer. James was carelessly tossing papers aside, and Fred was calling "Accio prophecy!" to no avail.

Rose had frozen in place, her mouth an O. "We'll have to get through Dumbledore," she murmured. "That's it!" She dashed over to Dumbledore's portrait and with a surge of energy, swung it off the wall. There, resting on a small pedestal, was a glass orb.

"Thattagirl, Rosie! I knew you'd come through!" Fred came over and slapped his cousin on the back. Rose beamed. "Thank you for your help, professor!"

"What help?" Came Dumbledore's muffled response. "Now I want you to listen. There was a reason this prophecy was hidden from you four, and it was purely to protect you. It is essential that you understand two things: First, many of the prophecies made never come true. Secondly, it appears you already know that this prophecy concerns either you, Albus, or the young man whom I believe is your brother. This means that the prophecy may or not be fulfilled, depending on you."

Rose swung the portrait back slightly so that they could see Dumbledore's face. "Professor McGonagall believed it would be safest to keep Sybil's prediction a secret. You might be hard-pressed to fulfill a prophecy you knew nothing about. But I have learned from experience that sometimes, telling the truth is for the best, no matter how difficult it may be."

"Thank you sir," Al said, trying to keep his voice from trembling. The gravity of the situation was beginning to sink in. He wondered if the prophecy was about him or James.

James snatched the orb off of its pedestal and cupped it in his hands.

Nothing happened.

Al's hands grew sweaty. The prophecy wasn't about James. It was about him, Albus Severus Potter.

Cursing, James passed the ball to Al. Instantly, it hummed to life, vibrating in Al's palms. It emitted a strange glow. The huge glasses of Professor Trelawny first appeared, and then the rest of her face, which was drawn into a strangely peaceful expression.

"The servants of the Dark Lord will return," she droned, her eyes rolling back into her head. "They will seek the hallow returned to the grave. They can only be stopped...," she took a sharp rattling breath, "by the Chosen One's son."

The glass orb's light faded, and Al placed it back onto its stand and closed the portrait, his hands trembling. Rose reached over and took his hand, her face white. "Al," she said, "remember what Dumbledore said. This prophecy probably won't come true. And besides, even if it does, I'm sure you can defeat the Death Eaters. It isn't even about Voldemort, it's about his servants."

 _What makes you think I can stop them_ , Al thought. He was just an 11 year old boy who had been learning magic for not even one month. What could he do?

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley."

Al froze, and slowly turned around. There was Professor McGonagall. He shared a look of horror with Rose, but there was nothing to be done.

"And Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley," McGonagall added. "What in the name of Merlin are you two doing here? Oh, I don't even want to know. Come with me, the four of you."

Al's mouth fell open. They weren't in huge trouble? He looked more closely at McGonagall, and noticed shock still fading from her face. What was going on?

"Professor," James called as they rushed down the stairs. "Professor, what's going on?"

Professor McGonagall ignored him, and they continued down the stairs. She pushed open the doors, and there stood Ginny and Lily Potter.

"Mum!" James cried. "What are you doing here?"

One look at his mum's face and Al knew that something was terribly wrong. Lily was clutching Mum's hand for dear life, something she rarely did anymore, as she thought it childish. Tears were stained to both of their faces.

"Mum." Al said. "What is it."

Al's mother didn't answer, and Professor McGonagall gripped her shoulder comfortingly. "Mr. Potter," she said, her voice soft. "I'm afraid your father has gone missing."

* * *

 **A cliff hanger dun dun dun! What happens next? You'll have to wait until next weekend to find out!**


	6. Chapter 6: Bludgers

Harry Potter was missing, but he might as well have been dead for the panic that was spreading throughout the wizarding world.

 _Harry Potter: The Boy Who Disappeared_ , headlines read, followed by an article explaining everything people knew about the disappearance. Which wasn't much. _Mrs. Ginny Potter awoke Tuesday morning to discover her husband was nowhere to be found. After owling all of Mr. Potter's close friends and relatives, and trying in many ways to contact him, she waited for him. When hours had passed, it became clear that Mr. Potter was not merely out shopping. It was then that Mrs. Potter came to the conclusion that her husband was missing. The most experienced and talented group of aurors is currently working hard on the case, but their efforts have yet to uncover a single clue. Harry Potter seems to have vanished off the face of the earth._

Other headlines boldly stated that Voldemort was back, and what precautions to take in order to prevent a third wizarding war. Several students had already been sent home, their parents claiming that they would be safer there.

Al's mum had tried to do the same right then and there, as she broke down in the middle of the hallway. But Al could tell her heart wasn't into it- she knew that Al and James would be safer at Hogwarts than anywhere else.

Rose, Al could tell, was trying her best not to show how upset she was. She wasn't saying anything, but he knew what she was thinking: she didn't deserve cry. Harry was just her uncle, he was Al's father. The rest of his cousins were acting the same way, although Al thought that this was ridiculous. He would be terrified if Uncle Ron went missing.

Similarly, James tried to keep a smile on his face. He was quick to assure anyone that asked that he was 100 percent fine, and shrugged off any sympathy. You would have to know him very well to tell that something was wrong, and Al did. His brother hadn't pulled a prank since they received the news.

As for Al, he was angry. And scared, and sad, and miserable.

Awe-struck stares turned into sympathetic ones. Students who he had barely met asked him if he was okay, professors made sure not to give him too much work. It was nice, Al knew it, but he hated it. Every time somebody came up to him and told him they were sorry, gave him a card or a chocolate frog, it only reminded him why they were being so kind.

He was fine.

Every day, Al told himself that his dad was invincible, that he couldn't be dead. There was no way.

"Albus Severus Potter."

"I'm fine," Al responded crabbily, not even looking up from his parchment when he recognized his brother's voice. It was nearly midnight, and he was the last one in the common room, still trying to write his essay for history of magic.

"I have known you your whole life, Al. I know which girl you had a crush on in primary school and which magazines you like to read while you're on the toilet. And I know that you, my friend, are not fine."

"Yes I am," Al growled, crossing a T so viciously he ripped his parchment in two. Cursing, he crumpled up the paper and threw it into the fire.

James nodded smugly. "Yep, you look just fine to me. So anyway, I figured you needed some cheering up. Did you hear that Liam and Jeffrey Murray's mum made them go home?"

Al rolled his eyes. "And this cheers me up how?"

"Liam and Jeff were our beaters, idiot! Which means we need new beaters! Kristy says trials are Saturday, you have to try."

Al turned around in his chair. "James," he said softly, "it just doesn't seem right. You know, with Dad gone, it doesn't seem like I should..."

"Should what, be happy?" Said James, "Look, Dad always says there were two things he loved in the world, and those were his family and quidditch. Wherever he is, I am positive he wants you to try. Come on, you're a bloody fantastic beater, and that's saying a lot coming from me."

"I'm a first year," Al said doubtfully. This was the reason he hadn't initially gone out for beater. Few first years made the team.

James waved his hand, as if swatting the idea away. "I was a first year," he said. "Dad was a first year. I'm telling you, it's probably genetic. And Al, even if you don't make the team, the first match is coming up, so you better get out of this depressed mood soon enough. I don't want some bloke moping around when I catch the snitch." James mimed grabbing something out of the air.

Al spun back around and pulled out another piece of parchment. James snatched it off of the table and replaced it with a tattered sign-up sheet. A couple names were already scrawled onto the first lines.

"Hey," he said, his voice suddenly serious. "Dad's going to be alright. He's Dad, he's always alright. I'm not saying don't worry about him, because that would make me a hypocrite. But you still need to enjoy yourself. Loosen up a bit,. And if you become beater, I'll even sign your bat for you."

Al sighed and scribbled his name below _John Keselman_ and _Claire Barnes_.

James slapped Al on the shoulder. "Thataboy. See you Saturday at nine!"

* * *

Al's stomach churned, and he sincerely regretted grabbing an extra plate of eggs for breakfast. James had advised him to play on a full stomach. Clearly he had been wrong.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Al wasn't even that good- his only real game experience was the annual Weasley Christmas match. Admittedly, Al's mother used to be a professional quidditch player, and his father became the youngest seeker ever to play on Gryffindor. Still, Al considered himself an average beater- not incredible, not terrible.

Standing around him were a cluster of third years, two fifth years, and a seventh year. And Lydia, who would apparently be "the best beater Gryffindor has seen in a century." Al doubted this, considering the stories his dad had told him about Uncle George and Uncle Fred.

Al shook free thoughts of his dad. Right now, he needed to focus on quidditch.

"You've got this Al!"

Sitting in the front row stands were Rose, Harvey, Felix, and Chris. Scattered were various Weasley cousins, and Derek and Scorpius sat in the third row. The two had become close, and both were friends with Al as well.

"Right," said Kristy Wood, Gryffindor's captain. "Here's how it's going to work. I'll set the bludgers loose and let you lot hit them around, just get a feel for them." Kristy heaved open a large chest sitting at her feet and took her wand out of pocket. "Ready?" she cried. Without waiting for a response, she pointed her wand at the chest. Instantly, two jet black balls shot out, their chains clattering away.

Al mounted the school broom that he'd been given, an old CleanSweep 22, and gripped a weathered beaters bat. Then he rose into the air. He hadn't flown in a while.

One bludger wasted no time zooming at Al's head, and he instinctively whacked it away. The ball gave a satisfying clunk, and his bat vibrated in his hand.

After a couple minutes, Al was beginning to feel more comfortable on his broom, and Kristie summoned the bludgers back into the chest.

Next, Kristie called up the team's other two chasers, Violet Dylan and Ethan Kahn. She divided everyone between Violet and Ethan, then had them face off one by one to defend their chaser and knock the other off their broom with a single bludger.

As Al waited in line to defend Violet, he watched the others and realized that he really did have a chance of becoming a beater. The seventh year and a fifth year both swung their bats, hitting only air. Two third year stumbled through their turn, one so surprised to actually make contact with the bludger, he dropped his bat.

Lydia, facing the last third year, turned out to actually be pretty decent. She drove the bludger right at Violet, and while the chaser didn't fall off her broom, she was so surprised that she nearly lost her balance. Al was surprised too. Lydia was so short, it seemed almost impossible for that much power to come out of her bat. Rose nearly fell onto the pitch cheering.

Finally, it was Al's turn. Swallowing, he took in the fifth year he was facing off against. The boy was thick, tall, and muscular. The bat looked like a twig in his large hands. He had thick eyebrows and hair that was perfectly combed backwards.

"Yeah Daniel!" Al heard an equally thuggish guy yell from the stands. Al swallowed. Do it for Dad, he told himself.

The bludger first swerved towards Ethan, and Daniel easily deflected it. It didn't come with much force, and Al, misjudging the speed, hit it too far to the left. The force carried him meters away, and Al struggled to straighten his brrom. Daniel smirked and swatted the bludger back.

It almost seemed like it was in slow motion. Al saw the bludger nearing Violet, and he stretched out his bat. He couldn't reach. In desperation, Al pushed his broom forward and flew straight at the bludger. The tip of his broom just barely grazed it, and the vibration nearly shook Al to the ground. But he recovered, and as the bludger careened at him, Al swung hard. Before Daniel could react, the bludger shoved Ethan right off of his broom, and he fell, stopping feet above the ground with a well-casted spell by Kristy.

The pitch erupted in cheers, and Al slowly lowered his broom to the ground, dazed. Lydia immediately clapped Al on the back, and even Daniel begrudgingly shook his hand.

Kristy huddled up with the rest of her team, discussing in hushed voices. Then she stepped out, clapping her hands to gather everyone's attention. "Excellent job everyone. Now unfortunately there can only be two beaters though I wish I could have all of you. I have discussed with my team, and we agreed that the two who performed the best today are-" she paused, "-Lydia Burke and Albus Potter! Congratulations, both of you, and thank you lot for coming here."

Lydia actually squealed -a sound Al never thought he'd hear from her- and grinned at Al. "Look's like we're teammates, Al!" Her eyes sparkled.

Al was still dazed. Did she really say Albus Potter?

All at once, James and Rose and Harvey and everyone was clustered around the two, thumping them on the back and offering congratulations.

As they headed back to the castle, Al was happier than any other time he could remember. That is, until he realized that he couldn't write to his dad telling him the good news. Like a balloon, his joy of seconds earlier began to deflate.

Because even though Albus Potter was one of Gryffindor's youngest ever beaters, his father wouldn't be there to hear about it. Harry Potter was still missing.

* * *

 **Hello!**

 **I could give you a whole list of excuses for why I haven't updated recently, but none of them are good enough. So I'll just say this: I have decided I will make no more promises. There is really no telling when I will be able to update. I will try for every weekend, and sometimes it may not work out.**

 **But I can tell you this: I will eventually finish this story, no matter how long it takes.**

 **Thank you sososososo much for reading, and please tell me what you think, it would mean the world to me!**


	7. Chapter 7: Quidditch and Treacle Tart

That afternoon, everyone had a word of congratulations for Al. Some congratulated him so energetically that he understood they were still trying to make him feel better. He had a last minute tea with Hagrid, which he enjoyed immensely. While some students didn't bother to hide their scowls and whispered in the corners about "favoritism," by the evening, Al's spirits had been significantly boosted. His roommates had a small celebration in their dormitory, and Fred Weasley even gave Al some treats from his dad's shop to change their hair different colors and make loud noises come out of their ears.

And so the weeks once again flew by. School was picking up, and Al found himself struggling to keep up with even the sheer amount of work he received. And then there was, of course, quidditch practice to consider. Kristy drove them hard, with three long practices a week. But still, life once again found a routine.

Which scared Al.

How could it have become a routine to wake up every morning and have to check the Prophet for news about his dad?

How could it have become a routine to see his brother, the one who always had a smile on his face, come to breakfast with puffy red eyes to mirror his own?

A full month passed with no news. The aurors were still reportedly trying their hardest, but there hadn't been a trace of evidence as to the whereabouts of Al's father. But as Al's mum constantly reminded him in letters, this was something to let the adults handle.

Al knew she was right. What could he, an eleven-year-old boy with two months of magic instruction, do that a highly-trained team of aurors couldn't? But a nagging feeling deep inside of him kept saying that he should be doing something.

November came with the first quidditch match of the season. The night had left a thick blanket of snow over Hogwarts, and the unusually early snow was still flurrying to the ground when Al walked down with Lydia and the rest of the team that evening

"Slytherin," Lydia snorted. "They're terrible this year. They haven't won the cup in ten years. We'll flatten them."

"Don't jinx it," Al warned uneasily.

Lydia ignored him and kept talking. "And the captain, Davie Groven Have you seen his hair? How can he win with hair like that, it'll probably get tangled in his broom or something." Davie Groven's famously long hair was always magically dyed a different color of the rainbow, and shot out from his head in a huge afro.

Al was beginning to regret ever trying out for the quidditch team, and his stomach was twisting itself into knots, even though he had opted out of dinner. Lydia continued her chatter, commenting on the possibilities of turning Davie's hair the scarlet and gold of Gryffindor. To shut her up, Al kicked a pile of snow at Lydia, and laughing, she skimmed off the top of the nearest snow bank with her mitten and blew it into his face.

"All right you two," Kristy intervened. "Let's focus on the game ahead. There will be plenty of time to have a snowball fight after the match."

Lydia and Al instantly dropped their snow and fell back into silent procession. Nobody on the team treated Al and Lydia as little kids, but they still took every opportunity to prove that they were just as mature and responsible as the rest. Kristy was only five years Al's senior, but she somehow had complete control over the team. She could lead without coming off as bossy or rude. Al remembered meeting her dad, Oliver Wood, at one of his professional matches. Kristy was certainly following in his footsteps.

The remainder of the walk passed by in a blur, and in seemingly no time at all, Al was standing next to Lydia on the pitch, broom in one hand, bat in the other. Miss Cole, the referee, blew the whistle, the balls were released, and they were off.

Al had flown hundreds of times before, but everything seemed more difficult when there was a roaring crowd filling the stands. With so few matches in the year, usually the entire school attended. He could easily pick out the section bathed in scarlet and gold, bundled up tightly in hats and scarves, but cheering the whole time.

"And there's Dylan to Kahn, back to Dylan, to Wood, who aims, Groven swerves to the left to defend the hoop, but Dylan with the fake launches it through the center hoop, and SCORES! GRYFFINDOR 10, SLYTHERIN 0!"

The crowd erupted, mostly into cheers. The majority seemed to be supporting Gryffindor.

"You'll notice that Groven's trademark hair is today the silver and green of Slytherin, although I do have to say, it's a bit much with the silver and green cloak and all that. Matching is only good in moderation. His look would be drastically improved if he changed his color to, I don't know, maybe gold? Or scarlet?" Al grinned up at where Louis, his most fashionable cousin, was commentating with his charming voice and dazzling veela smile.

"Albus!" Al spun around on his broom and found himself nose-to-nose with James. "Snap out of it! We're in a match, you can't just drift around like that!"

"It appears the two Potters are having a conference," Louis reported. "James's quidditch uniform is put together a little messily, as usual."

James rolled his eyes. "Al, you've got to focus. If I get hit with a bludger and die, I am totally blaming you."

Al just nodded and zoomed off with a new found determination. There was a bludger, barreling towards Kristy. Al quickly intercepted and pounded it toward a Slytherin chaser who was clutching a quaffle to his chest.

"Watkins is nearly knocked off his broom by a well placed bludger hit by Al Potter."

Watkins quickly recovered and narrowed his eyes at Al. Meanwhile, Kristy made off with the quaffle and tossed it to Ethan, who scored.

The game dragged on, Al gaining his confidence on the broom. He and Lydia used a technique from practice where they hit it back and forth between them until one suddenly launched it at an unsuspecting victim. Cheers sprung from the stands, entirely drowning out the few Slytherin boos.

About half an hour in, Al was exhausted. His fingers felt frozen, and his face stung from the harsh wind. He hadn't ever played this hard for this long before, and he was praying it would be over soon. How professional teams could sometimes go for days was beyond him.

"And it looks like James Potter has caught sight of the snitch! Beth Anson has also caught sight. Looks like we have a race!"

Al's head snapped up, and instantly adrenaline pumped back through him. He spotted James high above him, back arched over his broom, zooming straight ahead. The Slytherin seeker streaked after him, and they became two blurs against the gray sky. Students and professors rose to their feet, the players squinted at the action.

"AL BEHIND YOU!" Lydia screamed. Just in time, Al's bat nicked the corner of the bludger. He and Lydia began batting it back and forth.

"I think I'm going to try and take out Anson," Al yelled at her.

"Are you crazy? What if you hit James?"

"I won't!"

Lydia gave him an doubtful look, but hit it back nonetheless. Al focused on his brother. He was pulling forward, suddenly dipping down as if he had seen the snitch. But Al knew James, and this was a move he pulled so often at home that it couldn't fool him anymore.

Beth Anson sped down after James, and Al fired. He held his breath, praying the bludger wouldn't become distracted by someone else and veer off course. But it flew in a straight line, right at the two seekers.

For a second, Al thought it wouldn't work, and that James would be the target. But at the last second, James pulled up and the bludger slammed into Beth. Gasping, she stumbled. Her broom spun out of control, and she hung upside-down for a few seconds.

Meanwhile, James Potter floated back to the ground, snitch in hand.

Final score: Gryffindor 210, Slytherin 70.

* * *

A full-blown party was on by the time the team got back to the commons room. Music was pumping, though Al couldn't tell where it came from. The room was covered in scarlet and gold. Over on the couches, Louis was surrounded by a girls, all complimenting his commentating. Fred appeared to be in the midst of slipping a powder into Louis's drink, undoubtedly from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and James walked over to assist him.

Al spotted his friends in the corner of the room, and he and Lydia joined the group. Immediately they were swamped in back pats and congratulations.

"That was incredible!" Rose exclaimed. "And Al, how did you know James was pulling a Wronski Feint?" Rose didn't play quidditch herself, but she had picked up all of the terms from her dad, and was practically an expert.

Al smiled. "He's overused that at home and at the Weasley games. Dad taught him, and he's been practicing for years."

Rose's expression darkened at the mention of Harry. Al was in too good of a mood to let himself be saddened, so he was relieved when Chris and Felix began replaying every move, and Harvey, thoroughly confused, began firing off questions. (Al recommended that he pick up a copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ from the library- it would be easier.)

Derek told Al that Scorpius, who had been trash talking quite a bit, was embarrassed by the loss. "But he's happy for you," he said reassuringly. "He said that if Gryffindor had to win, he's glad it's because of you." Which showed just how good of a friend Scorpius was, and how different he was from his father.

Al blushed, and said that it wasn't "his" win, but after lots of bashing from his friends, he gave in.

The party lasted for only about an hour before people began turning in for bed. Having lifted the full team into the air and cheered, they were satisfied. It was late, and the older students wanted to be well-rested for a trip to Hogsmeade the next morning. But Al and his six friends continued to chat. They hadn't had a chance to really talk in a while. For Al, it was a welcome distraction from the feelings of missing his father that always came before bed.

"I'm starving," Al declared. He still hadn't eaten anything since lunch, and his stomach was growling. "Does't this party have any food?"

"Me too," Lydia agreed passionately. "I didn't eat any supper."

"Same here."

"You two!" Rose lectured. "You should always play on a full stomach."

"Well," said Al, an idea blossoming in his mind, "I'm going to grab the invisibility cloak and go down to the kitchens. Does anyone want to come?"

Lydia said that she would, but none of the rest were hungry, and Rose suggested that it would better for a smaller group to go- it would be more suspicious if all of them suddenly went missing, and besides, they would never fit under the cloak. Harvey, it seemed, was afraid of being caught and ruining his perfect status with the teachers, although he he wished them luck.

"Whatever," Lydia said, grinning, "more food for us, Al!"

It was only a simple matter of grabbing the cloak from his room, where it had been collecting dust since their last adventure. Then the two dashed down the stairs, where Al tickled the pear in the fruit bowl portrait. Lydia watched in awe. "Lexie never told me about that," she murmured, referring to her older sister in Hufflepuff.

"Guess it pays having a whole family that always ends up where they shouldn't be," replied Al.

They stepped into the kitchen, and were immediately swamped with good smells. Hundreds of house elves rushed around, carrying pots and pans, stirring food. One of them spotted Al and Lydia, gasped, and trotted over.

"Visitors!" She exclaimed. "And after curfew."

"Er..." Al blushed. "Sorry, we were just hoping we could grab a bite to eat. We played in the match today, you see, and neither of us ate a thing before."

The elf squinted. "And who are you?"

"Um, Albus. Albus Potter."

The kitchen fell silent.

"Potter?" Squeaked the elf. "If you don't mind my asking, sir, the son of Harry Potter?"

Al's face fell. "That's me," he said, much more bitterly than he had intended. But the elves didn't seem to notice. They were too excited.

The elves rushed up to Al, shaking his hand, some kneeling over in a bow. Al backed off, a bit overwhelmed.

"Back off!" cried the first elf. "Back off! He wants something to eat!"

Eventually, they returned to their work, still whispering. Only the first elf remained, and she beamed up at Al. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter! I'm Wopsy. Your father is quite a legend around here, you know. So good to us elves." She grasped his hand with both of her small ones and shook it vigorously.

Lydia cleared her throat, annoyed.

"Oh, and you are?" Wopsy said sweetly."

"Lydia Harris."

"Excellent. Now what do you two want?"

Minutes later, they were gorging on treacle tart and grilled chicken and scones with tea.

"I can't believe they're still working," mumbled Lydia through a mouthful of food. "It's nearly midnight now, isn't it?" The scones appeared to have helped her get over her being ignored by the elves.

"I know, I suppose they're preparing us all breakfast. That's the kind of thing my Aunt Hermione works for, elf rights. But they love working, and I think they're getting much better treatment now. They even started accepting wages."

When they had licked the crumbs from their plates, Al and Lydia thanked the elves, and promised to return. Then they slipped under the cloak and began the trek back to the common room.

"Look out the window," Lydia whispered in Al's ear, startling him. Snow was again floating down. All of the day's footprints were erased except for two pairs, which trailed two cloaked figures, one with long dark hair blowing in the wind.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" She breathed.

"Yeah," he agreed. "feels like Hogwarts is trapped in a fairy tale or something."

"You are so cheesy," she complained.

"Hey, you brought it up!"

"Well it's fine for me to, I'm a girl!"

Al rolled his eyes, even though he knew his friend couldn't see him in the dark. They only had to dodge the caretaker, an extremely old man named Argus Filch, once.

"It is past curfew!" The fat lady grumbled.

"Toad speckles." Al whispered the password.

"Just like your father, you are," she groused, swinging open.

Al refused to let the remark bother him. Today had been his happiest day at Hogwarts, filled with of Harry Potter's favorite things: quidditch, treacle tart, sneaking out in the invisibility cloak...

And maybe that's why it had been so happy. This was what his dad meant when he told stories about his golden years at Hogwarts. Of being with his friends, of going on adventures.

And of saving the day. The part Al's father always skimmed over, but his mum made sure to tell.

Nothing was happening with the search. No progress was being made. They said he was just a kid, there wasn't anything he could do, but there had to be something.

Al slipped under his covers and drifted off to sleep that night, filled with treacle tart, chicken, scones, and tea. And filled with determination.

* * *

 **I can't believe it's been a whole month since the last chapter! Time really flies when you're doing homework... But really, I'm sorry for the late update. I feel like I say this every time, but I really am.**

 **Have you heard about the new play, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child?! Featuring the one and only Albus Severus Potter, and written by our queen JK Rowling herself?**

 ***screams***

 ***cries because I don't live in London***

 **Oh well, hopefully it'll come here to the states someday. I still can't believe it! The slogan is "the eight story... nineteen years later."**

 **Well off to do more homework, but thanks for reading! I'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as possible :)**


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